My Princess has Grown Up

 It was a very quiet Labour room in the Military Hospital Mhow on Friday the Thirteenth December 1996, a lull before the storm, which was to strike soon. Having waited the whole day, and after Preeti had demanded and gorged Bhanwarilal (famous sweet shop in Mhow) Samosas, finally when all the relations were shooed off by the Duty Matron, Ananya decided to finally grace the world in her physical form.

She was the best, and the most precious anniversary gift which could have come our way. Tiny little bundle of joy, that moment  when I held her in my hands is etched in my mind forever. As it was a while before I could hold   Abhijat when he was born in Indore, while I was at Pune for my degree course.  

She was a child in a hurry as she had so much more to convey to all and sundry and spread love and affection all around. She started to walk when she was just about eight months old. Similarly she started to speak when she wasn’t even an year old, I used to always joke that the period in the warmth of the womb has to be taken into account in her case as she was already preparing for it right there. Ever since then, she has kept us all regaled with her banter day in and day out.

My parents named me “Suyash” which was a unique and different name back in the sixties, I dare say, may be they should have taken a copyright on it. Now when it was my turn to name the kids I was naturally inclined to emulate that, so I suggested Shavak for my son, which means a “cub”, I always thought myself to be a tiger so my son had to be a cub, so I presumed, till I was vetoed by the better all knowing half, and I had to settle for Abhijat, meaning original. When it was Ananya’s turn I wanted to call her my precious “Pari” as in a fairy, fairylike, she undoubtedly was, so loving and affectionate. But this time her grandfather had already  christened her “Ananya” which means unique, although the name Ananya is quite common these days, back in the 90s it was not so. Anu was very proud of this fact and would go on to announce to all and sundry, the uniqueness  of her name, so much so that her mail id was “anu.unique@..” 

“Morning shows the day” as the saying goes, or in Hindi ‘poot ke paon palne men’. She was always crystal clear of what she wanted and from whom and how exactly to get that. So as a kid she would resent anyone encroaching her turf, Mrs Divya Mishra  would often lovingly take her home as they were our immediate neighbours. As long as she was the centre of attraction it was good but the moment, another neighbourhood kid entered the arena, she would start throwing tantrums. 

She has the natural grace of a dancer, not formally trained, but her movements are simply poetry in motion, which she has developed on her own and has often  surprised all and sundry with her immense talent. As just a four year old she would start teaching her grandfather dance steps for her then favourite song, “Pyar ki kashti mein’ from the film “Kaho na Pyar Hai” or when she surprised her mother by giving a flawless performance on “Chhote chhote shahron se” from the film “Bunty aur Babli” in Emerald Heights International School, where she was studying, winning accolades form all the staff and students. Dancing is something which comes to her naturally, so does showering love and affection for pets. As she was so fond of them I decided to get one in the Regiment when I was commanding, thinking that would satisfy her and she would get over it, realising being a pet parent is an even greater responsibility than raising two of our own. But she had her way and “Buddy” our Labrador came into our lives in Wellington, where there were more pet dogs than kids in each home. The poor fellow did not realise where he had landed with Anu naturally fawning all over him and showing him off as the handsomest specimen to all her friends and hardly ever leaving him alone. 

The other thing she was so clear and passionate about, was her desire for becoming a doctor, inspired by her bua Richa, a Neurosurgeon, even as a kid, she would hand out prescriptions to all her toys who were her supposed patients. Her Nana, in fact has preserved one such priceless gem even today. These days when kids are quite confused as to what  do they want to do with their lives, we have been extremely lucky, as both Abhi and Anu were very clearheaded as to where they saw themselves as they were growing up. Abhi, a Math geek obviously chose Computer Science and Anu just had to be a doctor and a very good one at that. So here we are, she is Dr Ananya Sharma, MBBS, MD ( Anaesthesia) ready to take on the world.

Somewhere while all this was going on, she met Amit in College and they became friends, with their love for dancing and the fact that their names being Amit and Ananya slotted their roll numbers one after the other, landed them both on the same table for the practicals. She liked his simple, no nonsense approach and a keenness to learn quite appealing. When her friends would come calling at home, he was also there, but we didn’t have an inkling what was brewing then. It was only later, after she had completed her graduation and was halfway through her post graduation that she let us in on this closely guarded secret. Mind you, her siblings were aware, but their code Omerta is so strong that we elders did not even get a hint. 

I think Amit and Ananya are like chalk and cheese, and yet so similar that I think they are ideally suited. Here is wishing them both all the love and happiness. I am sure they will live by my mantra  of “Joie-de-Vivre” and enjoy this journey ahead.

VASANT PANCHAMI

  

  

It’s Vasant Panchami today, and as per the Indian Calendar we are formally announcing the arrival of spring as the winter draws to a close. As Shelly said, “When winter comes can Spring be far behind”, so here it is. Spring  brings with it the fragrance of love and joie-de-vivre, mother nature adorns herself with  mustard flowers in the fields and Flame of the Forest  

(Palash or Tesu in Hindi) literally sets the jungles ablaze with their flowers. Legend has it that when Shiva was in deep meditation and Parvati was unable to get his attention Kama and Rati shot arrows of flowers to divert Shiva's attention and succeeded, thereby despite being at the receiving end of Shiva's ire themselves, Shiva and Parvati united.

 After the gloomy autumn and dreary winter, Spring is a  celebration of life as we know it. Vasant though is not just love, it also signifies valour and courage. I am sure most of us recall the famous, “Mera rang de basanti chola..” composed by Shaheed Ram Prasad Bismil, which Shaheed Bhagat Singh sang while going to the gallows in Lahore Central Jail. The gist of the song is that he wants his attire to be dyed in the saffron colour of fearlessness, bravery and patriotism. Subhadra Kumari Chauhan’s epic poem, “Veeron ka kaisa ho Vasant..”, where she exhorts the warriors to draw inspiration from Rana Pratap and Shivaji, listening to it gives me goose pimples  even today.   

Spring brings with it a new quest for knowledge and wisdom, the day is considered very auspicious for initiating our children into the lifelong pursuit of learning. We pay obeisance to Ma Saraswati who is the goddess of Vidya, where education is not merely academic but holistic which encompasses spiritual quest as well. While most of us associate learning with academic pursuits alone, the fact remains that books form just one small part of the whole gamut called education. Art and culture play an equally important role on this path, so dance, painting, singing all come alive during this season when Sun has moved onto the Uttarayan (Northwards) on Makar Sankranti. Traditionally we celebrate the festival  with Saraswati Pooja and by going 'yellow', as is the theme of the nature itself, so not only do we dress in yellow but even eat yellow sweet rice which are a delicacy and worth dying for. 

This year there are two momentous occasions for our family during this season, the first one being my daughter Ananya's wedding coming up within the fortnight and the second one being a celebration of our very own kathak maestro in the making, Anvaya, my niece graduating at a very young and sweet 16 as a Kathak Visharad. She has been a prodigy and we could sense the natural rhythm in her tiny little feet when she had barely begun to take her first tentative steps. As a two year old she waltzed in to a family celebration dancing in perfect synch with the percussion instruments with traditional matki folk dance form. Her gentle swaying to the beats of the dholak  was so fluent, her donning of the veil so natural that it left all and sundry simply mesmerised. Naturally as she was growing up, she picked up classical dance as her passion apart from the formal education, which in any case she is excelling at.

She has taken after her mother, her aunt (bua) and her cousin Ananya who are all excellent dancers themselves. Ma Saraswati has been extremely kind to our family and we are indeed blessed. In today's day and age with cutthroat competition in almost every field, it is extremely heartening to see someone following her passion in the fine arts which are a celebration of human creativity itself. I dare say it required tremendous amount of courage to go against the beaten path and chart a fresh course as most of us quite naturally do. 

 

TOOTH TRAVAILS

 How I wish wisdom teeth actually imparted some wisdom in the homo sapiens, because merely calling it by this name doesn't change your basic nature and intelligence. If it was so, we would be rid of all the morons that we come across in our daily lives and world would be a much saner place. But I am not so sure of that,  after all it is supposedly the wisest amongst us all who get duped rather easily, it is the street smart variety who get away with  the Jamtara style frauds. Guess what some retired lawmakers, judges, bureaucrats and even defence officers have found themselves at the receiving end of these cyber frauds. More about our gullibility some other time. 

We all have to pay for our sins, and in this very life as the sages say, I am sure this saying would have originated after they faced 'teething' troubles. After all we all are guilty of taking our teeth for granted, and use as also abuse them for every possible conceivable or inconceivable task apart from God ordained job of just chewing. So we have opened bottles using them as bottle openers, the rustic types like me may have eaten sugarcane putting teeth to good use peeling the skin with them, broken hard nuts such as walnuts putting them through these tests and after all these, gorged on sweets, chocolates, giving the flossing or brushing at night a miss every once in a while. Now what do you expect with all these misdemeanours, the teeth also have their limit, and finally the judgement day arrives when they inflict that nagging pain which leaves you numb. This is just a reminder to not take them for granted and then we rush to the dentist to bail us out of our misery.

Dentists are aware that despite their pleas for practising dental hygiene, we have been ignoring it and sure enough chickens come home to roost. The moment you step into the dental clinic, the other patients give you a very empathetic look as they are facing a similar ordeal. We await our turn to take the chair, which is quite akin to the execution chair, just that we are physically strapped on to it. With our mouths agape, we are quite helpless as it is, wondering what exactly is the judgement, is it a normal dental filling or a root canal treatment or it is extraction of the villainous tooth itself. At the mercy of the dentist who almost Godlike in his white apron takes one look and the feeling is akin to letting him in on our closest guarded secrets, almost as though s(he) has seen through you. He knows our dietary choices with the telltale    signs giving out all the murky details. This voluntary invasion of our privacy is quite a scary moment but then it is the Hobson’s choice literally, we need relief from the ordeal. Dentists are true democrats, no not the American Democrat, but the ones who treat everyone the same, as whether you are Trump or Kamala, Modi or Rahul, you have to be at the mercy of the dentist some time or the other in life.

As kids we were made to believe in Tooth Fairies and losing one’s milk teeth may have been a little embarrassing but I think that is the genesis of our teeth travails later in life. Permanent teeth making way for the milk teeth had a deep impact in our psyche, where we had faith in the capability of our teeth to regrow whenever they ran into trouble of any kind but alas life is not a fairy tale. So there is no tooth for a tooth, at least not a natural one.

Dentist’s tools and instruments have gradually become quite hi-tech, with a mere wave of their hand they switch on the lights and focus on that hole on the face, which hardly resembles a mouth as we normally are used to seeing it. A mouth yanked wide open, awaiting the drill is the moment of truth and reckoning for all of us, we say our prayers in our minds of course, in that state ‘speech is silver silence is golden’ is the only adage which is helpful. Gods must be crazy, not the title of the laugh riot of  the Hollywood movie, else why would they make our teeth so strong and yet so vulnerable that a pain there reduces all the roaring tigers into squeaky little mice. One session is never enough, as the dentists derive some perverse pleasure and completing the root canal in a number of phases akin to our attack operations. So in the first phase he merely sets up a sort of firm base for the eventual assault and then gradually he skilfully completes the operation and the victory signal is of course when you can finally close that hole of yours returning it to the mouth that it once was.

Every visit to the dentist is like a New Year’s eve, a day of resolves of all kinds, will never miss a flossing at night, keep clear of chocolates and ice creams and so on, but as is the fate of the other such resolutions, they don’t last even till the morrow. As a species we are quite unique as we knowingly take pleasure in indulging in pursuits which end up being rather painful. I think we all have a sadistic trait somewhere deep within. As you may have guessed, this one is just after one of those dreaded visits, so I can afford to take a panga as they say in Punjabi, hoping the next visit is at least some months away or help me God!

Dare to Stare

 L&T Chairperson Mr Subrahmanyan is a wise man and speaks out of experience, so friends don't just listen to his sane advice but take it as a gospel, because the sooner you do that you will have attained nirvana as far as marital bliss goes at least.The mistress of the house is obviously not to be stared at, Mr Subrahmanyan committed this cardinal sin and paid for it dearly. Ask any of the much married men if they have ever dared to stare at their spouses and you will realise that his statement is worth pure 24 carat gold. "Don't you dare even look at me that way forget about staring", is how my better half chastised me more than three decades ago, when I was merely trying to contemplate my response at an argument we were having. I am sure you have heard of the old saying, 'If looks could kill..'. 

Eyes convey a lot more than what is visible, as Shubha Mudgal crooned in the 90s "Seekho na naino ki bhasha piya.." ( Learn the language of the eyes). Alas the piya or the beloved in question is so dumb that he is simply incapable of grasping these nuances. My granny used to say that her sons are naive and they don't understand all these glances, she was so right. There is another beautiful Urdu couplet " Nazar jo uthi to dua ban gayi, jo giri to haya ban gayi, jo gir ke uthi to khata ban gayi aur uth kar jhuki to ada ban gayi" ( Eyes are raised in prayer but if they droop they are coy and if risen thereafter it is a dare and finally if lowered becomes graceful). 

Mr Subrahmanyan obviously went to an all boys convent, as anyone who has ever ventured into a coed would vouch for the fun of getting into a staring contest with the girls, we could outstare them any day. But the same girl once she adorns the mantle of a wife she doesn’t need to get into any such trivialities as she knows that just one look …

Bosses are known to be making threats of all kinds, in the corporate world, in bureaucracy and of course in the uniformed forces, because the fear of the stick always works. But this is the most innovative way devised by this genius, where he has actually camouflaged it in such a sane advice. I have been a boss in my previous avatar and was supposed to be quite a hard task master, I must have issued all kinds of threats, open or veiled driving them towards professional excellence, but never realised that it was their getting into this staring contest which was the major obstacle in their progress. How I wish I had the privilege of this stratagem then..

Once the realisation dawns and it doesn't take much time that  staring doesn't get you anywhere then one devises better ways to keep out of harm's way by seeking refuge on the golf course or a tennis court or just about anywhere else. Sundays can be better spent at a number of places to avoid that sideways stern glance but I am sure Mr Subrahmanyan was not concerned regarding any other way to avoid the stare, but for the poor sod to troop into the office and clock those hours. Mr Subrahmanyan or should I just call him Subby which probably would be how he would be addressed  if he was in the Army, should know better than that as Mr Mahindra said publicly it is not the number of hours, which is what the babus do, but the quality of output which matters. Much as I would have liked to convey with my eyes, but then I have no choice so here I am putting it in words, take a chill pill buddy.  With due apologies to the author of this hymn,

 "Staring, staring, if we all keep staring, all the time we have, 

How we annoy and in pieces and total resentment... Staring..."

 Yes for the record, I only give loving glances at my adorable beautiful wife, stare I dare not!

RING OUT THE OLD RING IN THE NEW

HAPPY NEW YEAR 

 "Ring out the old ring in the new" so said Alfred Tennyson in his immortal "In Memoriam".  There was a time when New Year was eagerly awaited, as fresh beginnings could be made, saying adios to the year that just went by. Apart from the  dancing and merry making on the New Year's eve, we would sit down and religiously prepare our own greeting cards list, where and who all were going to be on it. Prior to that getting hold of cards, ordering them in advance, initially just with the regimental emblem and then with our name embossed the customised version, it was an exercise in itself and then collect all the cards received and put them up for display in your office and at home. There was a personal touch in these precious cards, people endorsed a few salutations in hand and signed, but alas those days are all gone.

Ever since the advent of this wretched "whats app", it has single handedly put these cards to rest permanently. Now we dread New Year's eve and the following days, as we are literally swamped with new year good wishes from every possible contact or non contact. There are all kinds of messages doing the rounds, so we have some who decide to wax eloquent about philosophy dishing out sermons about the new year, some of us vainglorious types decide to take selfies with families and inundate the groups with their photos with the greetings, some indulge in poetry while some others say it with flowers and cakes but alas, all in the virtual world. The deluge of wishes actually submerge us as the count just keeps rising from hundreds to thousands and we find it difficult to keep pace. The issue is not just being at the receiving end, we have to give back in equal measure, else we feel left out, so then we end up pushing out these in the same manner as we received them. While we definitely end up touching base with many more, but the sheer pleasure of receiving the physical greeting card and having it displayed like a trophy is missing. Whats app being free, we tend to dig out even those friends and relatives who have been long forgotten and are not even in their contact list. So we end up introducing ourselves to these guys who obviously did not think it was worth the while to save your contact details. Then they feign as though they have been able to place you, which we all know is quite fake, as they have no recollection whatsoever, and sure enough they end up reciprocating with the perfunctory response “Same to you!”. For the retirees, this is a good pastime but for the rest who still have to work to earn their bread, this is a pain, especially as some oldies would take an offence on their good wishes not being responded to. 

I often wonder, what is there to celebrate about this new year, the thoughts expressed in a cartoon which I came across, where an alien is posing a question to his colleague as to why the earthlings are going crazy on this day. His response was that since their planet has completed one full circle of their star, they call it new year and dance around. The first one then says, didn’t he mention that these guys are quite a dumb race actually. 

Dumb we are, no doubt, as through “whats app”,  we are providing the most precious commodity “Data” in this digital era, to Meta on a platter.

Laces or Strings

  Shoelaces or shoestrings as the American would like to call them, seemingly innocuous accessories, can be quite a nuisance or a botheration for some of us. I am sure you have heard of the phrase tie yourself up in knots, well the origin can be traced back to someone who ended up falling on his face with his shoe laces playing truant. This was a common prank in schools when the unsuspecting master or a dozing dud of a classmate would be at the receiving end.  You must be wondering what is it about these laces which have forced me to wax eloquent about their characteristics, well, actually there is. 

In the days of yore, the shoe laces were following the straight bar lacing method

, where one end of the aglet (the tip of the shoe lace) was taken straight to the last hole  (eye) and the second one would traverse the others in a crisscross manner. Tightening and loosening was simple, you had to just pull at the lowest one, followed by the higher ones and you could manage it without any hassle. But then, what is life if not a little complicated, so some
smart alecks introduced the criss-cross method, now the task of loosening or tightening was not just a challenge but for most of us quite impossible, with due apologies to Napoleon, in whose dictionary the word impossible wasn't there supposedly. I am sure he wore boots with straight lacing or he would have possibly hired some technicians to do the job for him. As if this is not enough, there are those who having been inspired by the complex design of DNA, decided to use the helix formation. Now try your hand at tinkering with the lowly laces; with all these complex webs which have been woven with them obviously they have shed their lowly status eons ago. As if the pattern of lacing was not enough, there are umpteen methods of tying the knot, most of us, are used to the simple figure of eight, but then, the basic aim of a knot is not to simplify things, so we have the shoemaker's knot or the bow knot, granny knot, double slip or the half hitch ones. 

Inventions are made to make things, procedures etc easier for the commoners, but these inventions are obviously not meant for us but those with the IQ of an Einstein, though I am sure even he would be hard put to resolve these tangles. No wonder  pump shoes, slip ons, sandals etc must have started finding their aficionados, fed up with the strings attached. In NDA, the twisted pair of laces on our drill boots  could land us in trouble, this small twist could be your nemesis. Our Drill Instructors (Ustaads) who did not have just an ‘eye for detail’ but a microscope who could discern  a twist where none was visible to the human eye. Then laces were made of cotton, which would snap at the time when they were expected to hold for a crucial march up to the Squadron Commander, with no replacement, the effort to use the remnant of the lace was again a herculean task, as the drill boot was no push over with its  thirteen nails and horse shoe together weighed a couple of kilograms, thus giving way again. Now we had the shoe and no lace, a situation which can only be experienced first hand, so an attempt was made to tie the two parts of the laces in such a manner that they would hold and the resultant knot is well camouflaged. We would get caught no doubt but at least you would be with the shoes and not without them.

While we were struggling with our shoelaces, the ladies chose their footwear which did not need this unnecessary accessory, they had their chappals, sandals and boots which used a zipper. Some smart ones amongst us too got hold of boots with the zipper, but them most still had to struggle with laces as usually men's shoes were upto their ankles only, rarely going above that, where a zipper could be put to use. These days a growing potbelly restricts the view and tying the shoelace itself becomes an ordeal. ‘Laces’ or ‘strings’, call them what you wish to, but ladies use them very imaginatively not leaving them with lowly shoes, no wonder they exact a revenge from us menfolk.

CEREBRAL CELEBRITY

 

Gukesh literally means one who has black hair, no wonder he was not afraid of facing the reigning champion with black pieces in the decider with the challenger and the champion locked with 6.5 points each after 13 gruelling rounds of chess. Anyone who has a even a little knowledge of chess knows that white pieces gives the player an edge, as he is the one who has the initiative. I know some of us may be wondering at this racist rule where white leads the blacks, but black pieces do end up delivering the checkmate  in almost 48% of the matches. Anyway, this blog is not about the unfairness of colour discrimination, this one is to celebrate the victory of the youngest world champion, who has made all Indians proud. 

Indians are credited to be the ones who invented this game, which was called "Chaturang" in ancient India. Chess was played by the kings, it helped them plan and strategise against their neighbouring states. Premchand's "Shatranj ke Khiladi" which was later made into a movie by the same name by Satyajit Ray aptly describes how engrossed chess players are that they are not concerned about the British troops marching into Awadh but are ready to draw their swords over minor differences in the game of chess itself. Indian style of Chess was a little different from the international style, here the King was allowed to move like the knight, i.e. two and a half steps once before it was given a check by the opponent. The pawns once they reached the other end of the board, assumed the role of the place where he reached, i.e. if it reached the rook's place it would be a rook unlike in international version where irrespective of the place, it would be turned into queen. I know many of you may not even be aware of the Indian system at all. When we were growing up and wanted to play, this question was often posed as to which system of Chess would we be keen to indulge in. Incidentally I got hooked to this game rather early, as my father used to play a good game of Chess and his sparring partners range included Professors, Teachers, District Revenue Officers, Clerks and anyone else who could tickle his grey cells. I used to watch them play and picked up the nuances, in fact I even participated in a district tournament once as a seven year old and did win a few rounds. 

Those days Bobby Fischer, the maverick American genius who toppled Boris Spassky of the erstwhile USSR as the World Chess Champion was the toast of the Chess fraternity. Unfortunately he remained a recluse and refused to defend his title later ceding the crown back to the Russians as Anatoly Karpov had a pretty long run as the Champ and was subsequently dethroned by compatriot  Gary Kasparov. It was Viswanthan Anand who pioneered the Indian renaissance in Chess becoming the first Grandmaster from India and later winning the championship thereby setting the stage for many Chess prodigies in the years to come. Indian Chess Grandmasters did India proud by winning both Open and Women's Chess Olympiad this year and now of course the crowning glory by Gukesh  Dommaraju becoming the youngest World Champion at 18 years. May his tribe rise and we get to witness many a champs in this cerebral field. let us raise a toast to our Cerebral Celebrity.